Family Album
by M C Pehrson
Summary: Story #95 Ever wonder how Jim Kirk re-entered the Nexus? Or why the Frenchman Jean-Luc Picard seems so very British? In this final story of my series, Captain Picard meets Captain Kirk in a "Generations" tale with a different twist. Note: My upcoming subseries, "Pinehaven", will show what became of Spock's daughter, Tess.


The battered ore barge was a derelict from Alpha Centauri that, like the man serving as her pilot, had seen better days. Bearded and unkempt, he sat alone at the controls, for there was no one else aboard and that was exactly how he wanted it. The ragtag freight company had hired him with few questions. Though he had the look of a fugitive, he knew ships. That was all that mattered to them, but the loner had his own agenda. There was only one reason why he had applied for the job, and it wasn't money. It was this region of space.

 _Be very careful,_ his employer had warned. _That strange energy flux is traveling through the sector. Avoid the Nexus at all cost._

Now, as the pilot detected the anomaly on a long-range scanner, his pulse quickened. Ever so gradually it formed on the viewscreen, writhing with hypnotic energy. The pilot's mouth tightened and his hazel eyes burned with a look of obsession. Though a repeating message from a buoy warned him off, he held to his course and checked his instruments for the location of the Starfleet science vessel monitoring the Nexus. After coming this far he could not risk a tractor beam, so he veered slightly, putting the energy ribbon between the two ships.

All set now. His long journey was coming to an end, and a happy home awaited him. _Home._ The word brought a twinge of regret as he recalled another, faraway place back on Earth, and the family and friends he had left behind. But weren't they also right here before him? And so much better and so much more! Only someone who had lived in the Nexus could understand its allure.

With his gaze locked on the seething storm of energy, the pilot forgot everything else. He set the speed at full impulse power, and the barge hurtled closer and closer. His euphoria mounted as the energy began to buffet the old ship, setting off alarms.

Arms outstretched, he shouted a rapturous welcome to the roiling Nexus. "Here I am! Come and get me!"

The barge was breaking up, tearing to pieces around him, and he found it exhilarating. Cold space rushed in, but he felt the delightful energy grabbing hold and lifting him out of the mortal time-stream…

 _…He was running barefoot in a field of clover…a mere boy…and from a distance came the sweet, familiar voice of his mother. "Jim! Jimmy Kirk, where are you?"_

oooo

Sixty-seven years later, Captain Jean-Luc Picard stood on a rugged hillside of Veridian III and sighted the Nexus ribbon swirling like an angry cloud in the east. His solitary struggle with Dr. Tolian Soran had been unsuccessful and there remained nothing more for him to do. The scientist's probe was already launched, and with the collapse of the nearby star, the Nexus changed course, bearing down on them. Atop the nearby hill, Soran jubilantly awaited its arrival. Like a great flaming cloud, it filled the sky. Jean-Luc's skin prickled with dread as the tendrils of energy seized hold and wrenched him into a strange new existence.

… _He was blind, spinning around, dizzy._

Gradually the sense of rotation eased, and he became aware of a cloth on his face—a blindfold. As he cautiously removed it, his bewildered eyes settled on a lavishly decorated Christmas tree. With a joyous sense of wonder, he gazed at the lovely room in which he found himself. Somehow he recognized the charming, old-world furnishings and knew the children who came running to embrace him, for this was his home. This was the family that he—a lifelong bachelor—had only dreamt about.

"Father! Papá!" they cried, and the precious sound of their voices stirred bittersweet memories of his own boyhood.

 _Papá._ It was the name Jean-Luc had called his French stepfather at Chateau LaBarre. Prior to his twelfth year, Jean-Luc had lived happily with his parents in England. But when his British father died, his mother Yvette returned to her childhood home in France and lent a hand at the family winery. They were all Picards—all but Jean-Luc, who bore his father's surname, Hillyard. When his mother wed the head vintner, a distant cousin, it had seemed natural for Jean-Luc to adopt the family name. Despite such changes, he remained very British and even boarded at historic Eton until he was old enough to enter Starfleet Academy. Summers and holidays at the Chateau had been a trial, for he did not like his stepbrother. Robert thought him arrogant, and Jean-Luc considered Robert rough and uncultured. In private, Robert mocked Jean-Luc's British ways and ridiculed his yearning to explore space. It had taken many long years for the two of them to reconcile their differences. And now, Jean-Luc suddenly remembered, Robert and his son René had burned to death in a house fire. Only today he had received the tragic news, but how distant it all seemed…

Rising from his thoughts, he accepted a glass of wine from his beautiful wife. The children went to their presents. Ornaments on the tree sparkled like stars, candles glowed atop a dining table, and a mouth-watering aroma of roast beef and Yorkshire pudding drifted from the kitchen.

Young René Picard entered the room. René…alive and well! Overflowing with happiness, Jean-Luc hugged his nephew, then went to a window where the snow was drifting down peacefully. The scene was…almost…perfect.

Yet an inexplicable sense of displacement made him mutter, "This is not right."

Turning, he found a dark-skinned woman gazing at him.

"Guinan!"

oooo

From time to time Jim Kirk revisited his boyhood, but in actuality, time had no meaning here. He had shed the rough, bearded image of an ore barge pilot. Clean-cut and vigorous, he alternated between his beloved Starfleet uniform and clothes more suitable for other adventures. Life was perfect and there was no end to it. He wooed women, fathered children, and sent them off on careers of his choosing. His real-life children, Tru and Sam, always made him proud, and as many times as he repeated a scenario, each day seemed fresh and new.

Now, awash in contentment, he breathed deeply of the fragrant mountain air before splitting some wood for the fire he would enjoy with Antonia this evening. He positioned a chunk of pine on his chopping block and picked up his axe. Strange, how good it felt swinging the blade. It struck dead center, as always. With a satisfying crack, the wood easily split and fell to the ground.

oooo

It did not take Jean-Luc long to ask Guinan, "Can I leave the Nexus?"

"You can go anytime, anywhere," she answered with the certainty of one who had found her own way out of the Nexus, long ago.

Though he did not understand the forces at work here, a wondrous feeling made him want to stay with his newfound family forever. But he knew that he couldn't stay. Lives depended upon him. He must return to Veridian III and keep Soran from launching the probe that destroyed the entire Veridian system. Only this time, he would bring help. Somewhere here in the Nexus was a man equal to the task—a famous man who had turned his back on reality in order to reclaim the pleasures of this place.

Jean-Luc had scarcely formed the thought when he found himself in a wooded mountain setting.

 _Thunk…thunk…thunk._ The rhythmic sound drew him to a clearing. There by a rustic home, a solitary man was splitting wood. Silently Jean-Luc stared at the man's vintage Starfleet uniform. Then he caught a clear look at his face.

"Kirk!" he exclaimed aloud. "James T. Kirk!"

Jim heard a voice, and turning, discovered a slim bald stranger with a commanding presence. The stranger wore an unfamiliar uniform, but the insignia was that of Starfleet.

"Beautiful day!" Jim said in greeting.

"Yes," the man responded with a marked British accent. "It certainly is."

Jim hoisted the ax and nodded toward a pile of wood. "Would you mind?"

The stranger came over and positioned a round on the chopping block. Jim cleft it in half.

"Captain," the man spoke hesitantly, "I'm wondering…do you realize…"

An acrid odor caught Jim's attention. "Do you smell something burning?" Dropping the ax, he headed for the house, then paused to say, "Come on in. It's alright. I live here."

With a feeling of awe, Jean-Luc followed Kirk inside. Somehow he had to recruit him, but Kirk refused to stand still, bustling into the kitchen, fiddling with an antiquated toaster. Standing apart from the activity, he introduced himself. "I'm Captain Jean-Luc Picard of the _Enterprise-D_. I'm from what you would consider the future—the 24th century."

A woman called from upstairs. "Come on, Jim, I'm starving! How long are you going to be rattling around in that kitchen?"

Kirk didn't answer her. Instead, he glanced at Jean-Luc. "What are you talking about? The future? This is the past…the day I…" His voice trailed off. He cracked peculiar-looking eggs into a pan.

Jean-Luc said, "We're caught up in some sort of temporal Nexus. You first came here as the result of an accident…when you were trying to save the _Enterprise-B_ …but you somehow managed to get out. Don't you remember? Don't you want to go home again?"

"Home? This is home." The scrambled eggs went on a plate, alongside the toast.

Jean-Luc's thoughts strayed to his own endearing Nexus family. Fresh from the blissful Christmas scene, he could not imagine how Kirk could have deserted a real-life family to return here. Then he remembered Guinan. On the _Enterprise_ , she had told him that at one time, even she would have done anything to get back into the Nexus.

He tried not to judge Kirk harshly. "Captain, look—I need your help. We have to go back to a planet—Veridian III. We have to stop a man called Soran. Millions of lives are at stake."

Carrying the breakfast on a tray, Kirk started upstairs. "I was like you once—so worried about duty and obligation, I couldn't see past my own uniform. And what did it get me?"

Frustrated, Jean-Luc followed Kirk. If he himself could resist the Nexus, why couldn't Kirk? "It seems to me that you abandoned duty and obligation toward your family in favor of your own selfish pursuits."

Kirk did not seem to be listening. "This time, I'm going to walk up these stairs and tell Antonia that I want to marry her."

"You did marry her," Jean-Luc informed him.

Kirk reached the bedroom door and swung it open. Together they entered not a bedroom, but a horse stable.

Kirk took the abrupt change of scene in stride. "This is my uncle's barn in Idaho. On the day I met Antonia, I took this horse for a ride. My legs were paralyzed then, but I still managed it, all on my own…" He smiled like a mischievous boy. "I always did find a way."

"What you _did_ ," Jean-Luc said with asperity, "was walk out on your wife and children. It's been almost seventy years. Do you have any idea what you've missed? Antonia is dead, as well as your son, Sam. Your daughter Tru has grown old and you have scads of grandchildren you've never seen. How I would have loved a family of my own, while you…you had everything, but threw it all away."

Kirk sobered. Grabbing a saddle, he readied the horse and rode off. Jean-Luc quickly saddled another horse and went after him. As before, the mere desire to find Kirk seemed to bring them together.

Kirk sat atop his idle mount, looking back at a wide cleft in the ground. He said, "I must have jumped that fifty times—always thrilled the hell out of me, but not this time. Because it isn't real. Nothing's real, is it? Nothing here matters…" His voice dropped and he seemed to struggle with himself. "What have I done?" After a moment of silence, he spoke again. "You said my son is dead? Sam's gone?"

Jean-Luc nodded. "He served as a police officer in Chicago. He was killed in the line of duty. Come back with me," he urged. "Together, we can stop Soran. We can make a difference. Then you can go home to your daughter before it's too late."

"Tru," he said under his breath.

The horses shifted in the day's pleasant warmth and nibbled at the grass.

Now that Jean-Luc had Kirk's attention, he told him Soran's deadly plan to implode a planetary system's star in order to divert the Nexus and enter it.

Kirk said, "Why did this Soran go through so much trouble? Why take lives? All I sacrificed was an ore barge."

"Soran said the Nexus destroys ships."

"But it won't let you die; I'm proof of that…twice over. The Nexus plucked me right out of the damaged ships. This Soran may be bright, but he doesn't have the guts to risk his own life."

"He's deranged," Jean-Luc said, privately wondering at the state of Kirk's mind after so many years in this place. Would he be capable of meeting any real challenge?

Kirk studied him. "So you're the captain of the _Enterprise_. The odds are against us and the situation is grim. If Spock were here, he would…"

Jean-Luc interrupted. "I am acquainted with Ambassador Spock. He would expect you to set aside your personal comfort and rise to the occasion, as he has in his work among the Romulans."

Kirk's eyes widened. " _Ambassador?_ Among the _Romulans?"_

Once more, Jean-Luc nodded. "In the real world, life goes on."

oooo

Jim and Captain Picard focused their minds on the task ahead. Still on horseback, they arrived at Veridian III ahead of the Nexus. Under a torrid blue sky, they dismounted and quietly climbed a bleak, rugged hill toward a network of metal platforms. Soran was busy on one of them when Jim stepped onto the grating.

The white-haired scientist whirled to confront his unexpected visitor. "Just who the hell are _you?"_

Right on cue, Picard approached Soran from behind and said, "He's James T. Kirk. Don't you read history?"

Though they rushed him from both sides, Soran nimbly bolted from the platform and ran away.

Picard said, "I have to get to the launcher. The ribbon will be here in a minute."

His heart pumping fast, Jim nodded. "I'll take care of Soran."

But the chase was not long underway when the scientist leaped into view and ambushed him. Bringing a weapon to bear on Jim's face, Soran said, "Actually, I _am_ acquainted with history and if I'm not mistaken, you belong in the Nexus. But you're not going to make it back."

 _This is it,_ Jim thought. _The end._

Suddenly Picard jumped Soran from the rear, but was quickly knocked down an embankment. Jim took up the fight, struck the weapon from Soran's hand, and began to exchange blows. Soran lost his footing and fell down the hillside, where he dangled from a loose cable. Despite his precarious situation, he managed to bring out a remote control and cloak the launcher as Jim and Picard hurried toward it. Then the controller slipped from the scientist's grip and landed on a lower catwalk.

"We need that controller," Picard said.

Jim sensed the Nexus approaching them, and glanced up. He stood mesmerized by the swirling ribbon of energy, overwhelmed with longing for that seemingly perfect world.

Picard's commanding voice drew him back. "Where's Soran?"

The scientist had disappeared. As Picard went after him, Jim made it over to the catwalk. He was partway across when a shot streaked from Soran's weapon, blasting the platform in two. The walkway fell out from under his feet. He slid down the grate, scrabbling for a handhold and barely finding one in time. He was not as young or strong as the Nexus illusions had made him seem, but bit by bit he muscled his way upward. Picard arrived on the upper edge. Stretching flat, the captain braced himself and scooted closer, one arm outstretched. Silently they reached toward one another until their hands met. As Picard hoisted him, Jim found a footing in the grate and climbed to safety. There was no chance to catch his breath. The cloaked launcher was set to fire into the system's star.

"We're running out of time," Picard said and pointed back toward the broken catwalk. "Look—there's the remote!"

Jim saw the controller lodged on the far side of the ruined walkway. The two segments slanted precariously, with a yawning gap between them. Twice, Picard had wasted precious time helping him. Now Jim said, "I'll get it. You go for the launcher."

Picard didn't move. "You'll never make it yourself. We have to work together."

"We _are_ working together," Jim said. "Trust me." He headed for the catwalk and didn't look back.

Gingerly he stepped onto the steep grating. It swayed so wildly that he fell. It took a moment to regain his footing, and then he edged toward the gap. From there, it looked like the Grand Canyon.

Jim fought down a surge of fear. He remembered the raw exhilaration of jumping his horse. His muscles tensed in preparation as under his breath he said, "One, two…"

On the count of three, he leaped and caught a twisted rail with one hand. His body slammed into the far grating. The remote popped loose and dropped into the outstretched fingers of his free hand. Holding tight to the rail, he found the proper button, aimed it at the cloaked launcher, and pushed. Up on the hill, the complex decloaked. Jim savored his victory as he found a second secure handhold. Now if he could just hang on and…

The catwalk lurched. Accompanied by an ominous wrench of stressed metal, it began to sway wildly. Then as Jim clung to the rails, the entire section broke free and hurtled down the hillside.

The fall did not hurt much. With a shock too deep for pain, he landed beneath the tangled metalwork. An explosion shook the ground and showered dirt over him. High overhead, the Nexus swirled harmlessly through the sky and was gone.

 _Success._

Time to rest now, time to think. Jim knew he would get out of this fix somehow; he always had found some way to cheat death. Picard would surely come. Then Jim would go home and see if Tru had it in her heart to forgive him.

For a time he hovered just below the level of full consciousness. Then a sound of scraping metal roused him, and Picard's concerned face appeared above the tangle.

"We did it," Jim said, "didn't we? We made a difference."

"Oh yes," Picard answered. "We made a difference. Thank-you."

Jim tried to smile. "It was the least I could do for the captain of the _Enterprise_. It was…fun."

He tasted blood. He could not feel his legs or even his arms; he could not seem to feel anything but a creeping chill overtaking him. It was almost as if he were already…

With a sudden sense of urgency he said, "Tell my daughter…tell Tru that I'm…I'm sorry."

"I will," Picard promised.

And drawing one final breath, Jim realized that this time he had not cheated death, after all. Yet now, as never before, he understood that death was only a passage to the greatest of adventures. From beyond the veil, he felt an unseen presence beckoning to him, and sighed, "Oh my…"

oooo

Jean-Luc had scarcely placed the final stone on Captain Kirk's makeshift grave when the shuttlecraft arrived. A shock awaited him. All that remained of the _Enterprise_ was the mangled saucer section. Under Will Riker's command, it had plowed into Veridian III after sustaining damage from a Klingon attack.

Jean-Luc was now a captain without a ship. Within the week, his marooned crew was rescued and on their way back to Earth where they would undergo debriefing and await their new assignments. It was unlikely that they would serve together any time soon, and the realization struck hard. Over the years, this crew had become his family.

When they reached Spacedock, he personally supervised the transfer of Kirk's body from the ship. News of Kirk's reappearance and subsequent death had reached the press, and he received the solemn, respectful welcome of a fallen hero.

Jean-Luc had other dead to honor, but that would have to wait until he fulfilled his obligation to the legendary figure. First, he transported to a remote community in California, named Weaverville. Renting a skimmer, he glided over magnificent woodlands, meadows, and creeks. He was in no particular hurry, but all too soon he arrived at the secluded Dreamcatcher Boy's Ranch and parked in the area reserved for visitors. Stepping out of the skimmer, he breathed deeply of the mountain air as he took in the sprawling residence, the great red barn, the handsome horses at pasture. All was quiet.

Near the main entrance, a slender man sat enjoying the sunny day. His brown face was wrinkled and weathered. A pair of gray braids hung halfway down his chest.

Approaching the man, Jean-Luc introduced himself and said, "I'm looking for Elena True Redfern. Her maiden name was Kirk. Do you know her?"

The dark eyes took stock of him. "She's my wife."

"Mr. Redfern, I have news for her," Jean-Luc said.

"She has heard about her father."

"I was with him when he died. He left her a message."

The man's expression remained stony. "Regrets or recriminations? Though he was once my legal guardian, he didn't approve of my marriage to his daughter. He used it as an excuse to leave."

A nearby door burst open, saving Jean-Luc from any need to comment. Out spilled half a dozen rambunctious boys accompanied by a man who so resembled a middle-aged Spock that Jean-Luc gaped at him. Recovering his composure, he said, "You must be Spock's younger son, James—the one named after Captain Kirk."

"That's right," James replied. "And you're Captain Picard of the _Enterprise_."

"The _late Enterprise_ ," Jean-Luc said with wry humor. "Sir, I know your father."

The Spock-like face relaxed into a smile. "Yes, he gets around pretty well for an old man, doesn't he?" James nodded toward the chair. "You've met my partner, Duncan? Around here, we call him Lame Wolf."

"He's a Shoshone Indian," volunteered a boy.

As the children crowded around Jean-Luc, admiring his Starfleet uniform, he could almost hear distant voices calling to him. _Father…Papá…_

Then one fair-haired lad broke the spell by exclaiming, "You're the one who wrecked the _Enterprise_!"

James gently reproached the boy, and after sending the group off to their recess, invited Jean-Luc inside. They passed through a spacious foyer. Through a doorway, Jean-Luc glimpsed dining tables set in preparation for the midday meal.

"Can you stay and eat with us?" Spock's son asked graciously.

Jean-Luc declined the invitation and explained that his sister-in-law was awaiting him at the chateau. "But first, if I might pay Tru Redfern a brief visit…"

James led him to a door and rapped on it. From inside, a faint voice spoke. "Come in."

James opened the door and announced, "Tru, you have a visitor. It's Captain Jean-Luc Picard."

Jean-Luc entered alone. An elderly woman sat near a window, holding an antique book. At a glance, he recognized her artwork on the walls. Watercolors bloomed like lovely flowers amid the Native American décor.

"Captain," she said, eyeing him. "Please…have a seat."

He bowed slightly before sitting down. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Redfern. I had one of your original paintings aboard the _Enterprise_. 'Apple Blossoms'."

"It was destroyed?"

"I'm afraid so. I was lucky to save my family album. It's singed, but not badly."

A painful silence settled between them. Tru clasped her hands tightly together, and her eyes welled with tears. "You found him. You brought my father home."

"Yes." Quietly Jean-Luc described his encounter with Kirk in the Nexus, and the events that led to Kirk's death. With an ache in his throat, he said, "At the very last…when he realized he wouldn't make it…he spoke these words. 'Tell my daughter…tell Tru that I'm sorry'."

He saw her tears fall and discreetly looked aside. The pendulum of an antique clock ticked steadily.

"Thank-you," she said low.

Looking into her grateful eyes, he told her, "It was an honor to meet your father. I only wish…I could have brought him home alive."

oooo

That evening in France, Jean-Luc wept over the graves of his brother Robert and nephew René, who had been laid to rest in the chateau's private cemetery. Leaving the stars behind, he came indoors to share a drink of the family wine with his bereaved sister-in-law, Marie. They sat beside a cold, dark hearth in a wing of the house undamaged by the fire. Neither of them could have borne the sight of flames just then. He had brought his precious album, and as they paged through it together, a recently acquired picture fell out.

Marie picked it up. "That's Captain Kirk," she observed with some surprise.

"Yes."

Her face livened with interest. "They say you met him. What was he like?"

Jean-Luc sighed. His own yearning for the simple Nexus joy had made him more understanding of Kirk. How could one help but admire the man? "He was bright…and brave…and very human."

"Like in the old stories."

"Yes," he said. And tucking Kirk's photo back into the album, he turned the page.

oooOOooo


End file.
